


You're perfect

by Pansexualweirdo



Category: CrankGameplays - Fandom, Video Blogging RPF, markiplier - Fandom
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Domestic Fluff, Drabble, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Ethan Is A Sad Bean, Explicit Language, First Kiss, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, Hurt/Comfort, Inspired by the King's Royale Fitness Test video, M/M, Making Out, Mutual Pining, Oh and Chica's there too, One Shot, Pining, Self-Esteem Issues, Short, Unus Annus
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-03
Updated: 2020-03-03
Packaged: 2021-02-23 04:34:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,378
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23005816
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pansexualweirdo/pseuds/Pansexualweirdo
Summary: This absolute angst-fest takes place after the filming of the "King's Royale Fitness Test" video and is basically just Ethan dealing with some self-confidence issues while Mark tries to help. I adore the two of them and their Unus Annus channel and just had to write something around it. I really hope you like it! <3[[DISCLAIMER!!: I'm usually reluctant to ship real people, especially since both Ethan and Mark have girlfriends, but this was all written for fun and I don't in any way intend to claim anything about the two of them and their relationship. I have full respect for them and their lovely partners and wish that to be clear as you continue.]]
Relationships: Mark Fischbach & Ethan Nestor, Mark Fischbach/Ethan Nestor
Comments: 14
Kudos: 389





	You're perfect

It’s about an hour after the filming of the “King’s royale fitness test” video and Mark and Ethan are back at Mark’s place. When the cameras had stopped rolling, Ethan looked absolutely destroyed, and Mark touched his arm to get his attention. He felt guilty for pushing the other to do physical activity when he was sick. ‘Hey, y’wanna come back home with me for a bit?’ he’d suggested, receiving a tired smile and a nod in response.

As soon as they both got back, Ethan claimed the first shower and then crashed on Mark’s couch with a loud groan of pure exhaustion, a heap of wet limbs and towel. Now it’s Mark’s turn, and he can’t pretend he isn’t worn as well. So dumping his clothes in a pile on the floor and feeling the cooling stream of water upon his skin is no less than euphoric.

Still, he makes his time short, drying off and hooking a towel around his waist to go check on his friend. When he comes back inside the living room, he finds Ethan redressed in new clothes, face down into a cushion on the sofa. Chica’s sitting next to him on the floor, pawing at him with a low whine. Seems Mark’s not the only one worried for Ethan.

Chica doesn’t usually make those sounds unless she knows someone is upset.

“Hey, Eth? Buddy? You okay?” Mark calls, softly as not to startle him, but he does anyway.

Ethan sits up with a start, messily wiping at his eyes with his sleeve. His face is flushed from crying, his voice rough when he speaks.

“Huh? Yeah, I’m- why wouldn’t I be? I’m just… sick. 'm sick, Mark.” stutters Ethan, looking small, and something inside of Mark’s chest tightens. He doesn’t like seeing his friend so dejected.

“Last time I checked, you don’t usually cry when you’re sick. What’s up?”

He approaches Ethan carefully, giving Chica a few reassuring pats on the head and she gets the message, walking off to curl up in her dog bed. He sits down next to the boy, watching him fake a smile as if to say that ‘everything is fine’ when it _clearly_ isn’t.

“N- Nothing. I told you, 'm good.”

“You’re not. Look, even Chica can feel your sadness.” Mark says, motioning to his golden retriever, who’s resting her head on her paws, practically frowning at the pair from her side of the room.

“So let’s hear it,” he adds, moving an inch closer to his friend, and Ethan’s eyes are still shiny, fixed on the texture of the couch as he bites his bottom lip.

“It’s stupid.”

“If it was, you wouldn’t be upset about it. Eth, you can talk to me, you know that.” insists Mark, he’s not giving up until he can help his friend cheer up.

Ethan draws a sigh, briefly looking up at Mark before going back to the sofa cushions, picking on a loose thread there.

“I’m… weak.” It’s quiet, so very quiet that Mark wouldn’t catch it if he wasn’t listening to him so attentively.

Upon hearing this, however, his face screws up in a confused grimace. He’s completely lost.

“What? What makes you think that?” Ethan gives him a look.

“Oh, I don’t know, _everything_? I’m scrawny, I’m lanky, I mean, I could barely do 11 fucking pull-ups!” he exclaimed, his voice wavering with emotion.

Mark feels like he should’ve realized that this was getting to Ethan back when they were filming. He did look a bit miffed, but Mark didn’t think it got to him as much as it shows now.

“And that was still good! You’re sick, don’t be so hard on yourself, man.”

“No, you don’t get it. I wouldn’t’ve been able to do any better if I was well. And it’s not even about the numbers, just... look at me!”

There are tear streaks down his red cheeks and he looks like he’s at his wit’s end. Mark peers at him, but he can’t see what Ethan sees. Weak is the last word that comes to mind when you look at Ethan. Lithe, determined, strong-willed, beautiful, however… Mark has to swallow down the words before they come bubbling up to the surface. He furrows his brow instead, shrugging his shoulders, genuinely stumped.

“I don’t see what’s wrong.”

“Well look harder. Or better yet,..” he chuckles.

“Look at _yourself!_ I mean, you’re ripped! I pale in comparison to you.”

And although Mark doesn’t normally mind compliments, this angers him. The audacity this man has to talk about himself in such a way is straight-up infuriating. Mark opens his mouth to argue with his friend, but Ethan’s quicker to the draw.

“No, don’t, you know it’s fucking true. Alex is a better match for you and the channel. Hell, _anyone’s_ better than me!” And that’s just about enough of that, Mark thinks, grabbing Ethan’s wrists that are idly flailing in the air and shushing him.

“Okay, no, Ethan, you gotta shut up.” he almost growls, his jaw working as he stares Ethan down, extremely fucking agitated and simultaneously helpless, shell-shocked that this is what Ethan thinks of himself.

“You’re wrong. You’re so _very_ wrong, Eth. You’re not weak, not mentally or physically, and no one else thinks that either.”

“But-” Ethan begins, then trails off, eyes wide and chest heaving as Mark grabs his shoulders, making sure he’s listening to every word he’s saying.

“No buts. You’re the greatest co-worker I could ask for, and I’m not just saying that. I don’t want my training coach to run the channel with me, or some other ‘ripped’ dude as you call it, I want you.”

But even as he says this, Ethan still looks doubtful, and Mark rolls his eyes at his stupidity. He wasn’t planning to clean about his crush for the other man, but perhaps that’s needed here for him to understand. The worst-case scenario is Ethan will never want to speak to him again and that their years-long friendship will forever be over. What can go wrong?

“Okay, you still don’t believe me, do you? Well, I’m gonna take a shot in the dark here, see if this’ll convince you,” announced Mark, silencing a: “Wha-?” from Ethan by cupping his face in his hands and pressing his lips to his, brief but insistent. Ethan squeaks adorably against his lips, his skin is smooth and soft beneath Mark’s touch and Mark revels in the contact, finding it very difficult to pull away.

Once he does, though, it’s 100 % worth it, because Ethan’s face is several shades red that spreads to his neck and ears, and his eyes are wide, pupils blown. On top of that, he’s sputtering nonsense, being adorably flustered and the sight of it goes straight to Mark’s heart.

“You-... Really?” he asks, incredulous, barely giving Mark the space to say: “Yes, really”, before pulling him by the neck into another passionate and far more heated kiss.

He straddles Mark’s lap, running his hands over his upper body and raising goosebumps in their wake before burying them in his hair, kissing Mark like he’s a dying man. The fervor is warmly welcomed by Mark, who responds with just as much enthusiasm, his arms tightly wrapped around the smaller waist, holding him as close as he can. But he can’t keep up with Ethan’s pace when Ethan moves onto peppering his face with kisses, giggling happily. Soon enough, Mark’s gotta push him back to warn him that: “My towel’s comin’ off, Eth.”

“Oh no, we wouldn’t want that,” replies Ethan with obvious sarcasm, but obediently gets off of him to sink back into the couch with an expression of newfound bliss. Mark fixes the knot on the towel around his waist and moves in to press a lingering kiss to Ethan’s forehead, reveling in the sheepish bow of his head and the small smile pulling at his lips.

“My words gettin’ through to ya now?” he asks, and to his relief, Ethan nods.

“Yeah. Yeah, they are.”

“Good. I don’t want you changing anything about yourself ‘cause I love you exactly the way you are.”

It looks like Ethan’s about to cry when he stutters back: “l- I love you too, Mark.”


End file.
